


Jealousy

by andrasstaie



Series: Of Mages, Warriors, and Champions [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gambling, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasstaie/pseuds/andrasstaie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian struggles with the developing "relationship" between Vaxus Trevelyan and Ashley Hawke, putting him in a position of obvious and wild jealously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dorian leaned over the railing, peering into the room below. Where normally he’d find little of interest, he noted today a quite disturbing image. His gaze narrowed on the pair sitting on the couch below. The image far more repulsive to the mage than the typical pile of rags that occupied the space. Though perhaps if the company itself were not so… terrible, Dorian mused it would not be  _so_ dreadful an image. Even adorable.

But in the current case, adorable was far from the word that Dorian would use. He curled his lip. The  _Champion_ sat on one end, legs crossed at the ankle and propped up on a table she’d dragged over. Vaxus was laying across the couch on his back, head in Hawke’s lap as he laughed and gestured with his hands. No doubt telling a story. But that wasn’t even the worst of it! Even from his vantage point, Dorian could see the filthy rogue playing with Vaxus’ hair. Her fingers curling, twisting, and gently tugging in a repetitive motion. Like she was petting that noisy mabari of hers.

Dorian snorted and pushed off the railing, a sneer on his face as he whipped around to hunt for a book. Something,  _anything_ to distract himself from that… that… mess going on below him. He shuddered as his thoughts wandered. Rushing off without his consent and leaving vivid and waking visions in his mind’s eye.

“Kaffas!” he hissed under his breath.

His fingers curled into a fist, ready to lash at the nearest inanimate object.

“Careful Dorian, or you will give yourself away.” Leliana’s cool voice slid through his ears and curled around his mind like a viper.

He hissed, but she was not wrong. With an exasperated sigh, he relaxed his hands and looked over to the spymaster. “That obvious, am I?”

“Terribly so, I’m afraid,” she answered with a light chuckle.

Leliana stepped up to the railing to peer down to the bottom floor of the rotunda, gaze easily settling on the pair upon the couch.

“Perhaps instead of this,” she turned and gestured toward him with one hand. “You could be happy for him?”

Dorian scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. Leliana shook her head, gaze narrowing on the mage.

“Hear me out.” She instructed, cooly. “Look at him, look how happy he looks.” She turned and set her hands on the railing as she peered down. Dorian hesitated, but joined her after a moment. “You would rob him of a moment of contentment?” Leliana glanced at Dorian from the corner of her eye. “The Inquisition demands much of Vaxus, I would not be so quick to find anger in the scarce times he finds peace.” A soft, nearly inaudible sigh escaped her lips as she looked away again.

Dorian watched Vaxus and Hawke as Leliana spoke, his heart twisting and wrenching uncomfortably. And yet, he knew deep down there was truth behind her words. However, hearing such things and being able to  _accept_ them were vastly different matters for the mage. He sighed, pushing off the railing and stepping back.

“Thank you for your advice, Leliana. I… need some time to think,” he said after a long moment.

The spymaster merely nodded, watching as Dorian retreated out the nearby exit. She soon shifted her sharp gaze back to the pair below, watching them with studious interest. A small, ever so slight smile curled the very corners of her mouth.


	2. Mamihlapinatapei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaxus' take on matters during the events of Chapter 1.

As interesting as the Champion’s stories were, Vaxus could not help but be distracted. Even when he told his own stories, he’d become distracted. Ashley would have to prompt him to continue, to help him find his place again. While she didn’t seem to mind, he couldn’t help but wonder how terrible he looked for it. More than once he’d flushed awkwardly, clearing his throat and sheepishly trying to continue where he’d left off. Or to indicate he’d been (partially) listening to her tale.

Each time he’d lost himself, he’d been looking up. A longing in his gaze when his eyes found Dorian. The mage had spent a great deal of time lingering along the railing above. While the distance made the focus of his eyes unclear, Vaxus couldn’t help but wonder about it being on him. Or hope it was on him.

Vaxus sighed wistfully, his mind straying again. To her credit, Ashley didn’t seem to mind. They’d both fallen silent, enjoying the peace and quiet. She continued to stroke through his hair, idle movements of her fingers across his scalp. When Dorian disappeared, Vaxus had sighed again, closing his eyes and imagining it was the mage’s fingers twisting around his hair or lightly scratching against his scalp.

If only he wasn’t too scared of the reality. Too worried that it would never be able to happen.


	3. The Price of Winning - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian comes upon a gathering in Skyhold’s courtyard; the Inquisitor and the Champion are sparring and everyone is making bets. Including Dorian. Winning, however, is really not the thing that’s on his mind as he watches the fight.

A commotion in the courtyard drew Dorian’s attention. He paused on the ramparts, looking over to see a large crowd gathering. A smile curled upon his lips. Such a crowd typically meant only one thing - the Inquisitor and the Seeker were at it again. While it seemed a bit early for the weekly event, Dorian was  _hardly_ one to question it. Especially when it afforded him a chance to, quite shamelessly, watch a very shirtless, often sweaty and sometimes bloody Vaxus. Even if he lost coin every time, he’d never complain.

Not until today, it seemed.

Dorian jaunted, working to control his mirth, through the rotunda and then out through the main hall of Skyhold’s keep. It was but a short jog - especially if he skipped steps - down onto the grass and across the small area to the circle of people. Quietly, the mage slipped through the growing crowd until he’d settled himself near the front - his typical position. The sight that met him was both pleasant and horrifying.

His eyes, naturally, landed upon Vaxus first. The warrior wore wraps around his hands and wrists, sweat pouring off his brow in the afternoon sunlight and a small trail of blood trickling down his nose. A lovely sight, to be certain. And yet the moment crashed down around Dorian in an instant. Where he expected to find Cassandra across the ring, he realized it was a much more lithely built woman. Dark hair swept back off her neck and a single band of leather protected the modesty of her chest - while tight fitted trousers left little to the imagination.

It was as the pair circled each other that the full realization of who this woman was hit Dorian. Like a goat smacking the walls of Skyhold. Eyes widened, jaw going slack even as hands tensed and fingers curled inward into fists.  _Hawke_. His eyes darted about the front row of the viewing circle, many familiar faces were gathered about. Varric was weaving in and out, taking bets while the Inquisitor and the Champion continued to circle each other - wild grins on their faces.

Dorian felt his palms beginning to get clammy, a frustrating sweat even in the crisp chilly air of the Frostbacks. Varric had made his way over to the mage, clapping him on the back with a cheerful grin.

“Here to bet the usual, Sparkler?”

“Of course.” The reply was slow, Dorian’s mouth feeling dry as he forced a smile to look down at the dwarf.

“You might even have a chance this time,” Varric chuckled.

“Oh? Did the Champion not take on the Arishok in single combat?” Dorian asked, dryly.

Varric began to laugh. “Something like that.”

Dorian snorted, but nodded as Varric wove his way back into the crowd. The mage eyed the dwarf as he went, watching him approach the newly arrived Commander. Both brows lifted with interest, leaning slightly in that direction in hopes of overhearing the bet. A maddening curiosity if Cullen would bet against his… Dorian’s eyes narrowed. Whatever Hawke was to the man. Cullen had yet to be forthcoming about that particular relationship.

Try as he might, however, Dorian simply could not hear the hushed words from the distance he remained at. He huffed out a sigh, crossing his arms across his chest and eyeing the fighters. They’d paused in their circling, a daring smirk on her lips.

Vaxus threw the first punch. Hawke ducked, crouching down to sweep Vaxus’ legs out from under him. She managed to hook one ankle, forcing him into an awkward wobble, but he otherwise did not budge as he began to laugh. Hawke was muttering under her breath as she rolled away and up to her feet again. Feinting left, she struck at his right side with her fist connecting to his shoulder. He grunted, but took the blow as he swung his fist around and connected it to her side.

Hawke stumbled, but regained herself  just enough to whip one leg around and nail Vaxus on the thigh. Dorian cringed from the sidelines when the blow connected, watching in frustration as he could do nothing to interfere. He wanted, tensely, as Hawke followed through and pinned Vaxus to the ground. She straddled his sides, her hips firmly planted over the warrior’s and hands on her hips. A grin of victory lingered on her face for only a moment before sheer surprise washed it away.

In one quick, fluid motion, Vaxus had managed to flip them so he was on top. A broad grin on his lips as he kept Hawke’s arms pinned over her head. She squirmed underneath him, wiggling and testing Vaxus’ hold. When he did not relent, she relaxed back against the ground and nodded. Vaxus Trevelyan, of all people had just won.

Dorian’s mouth dropped open. Not because he’d just won the bet, not because it was the first time he’d ever won since this whole madness of sparring Cassandra (and evidently the Champion) had become. No, Dorian couldn’t get over the daring smirk on Hawke’s lips, or the fact that, in spite of Vaxus’ victory, he still remained over the Champion. A ridiculous grin on his face as he looked down at the panting, sweaty woman beneath him.

He could  _swear_ he heard the Champion whisper something, could see her lips moving. Yet, much to his displeasure, he could not catch the words. Only the lingering blush on Vaxus’ cheeks. Only the loud and sudden congratulatory slap against his back did Dorian stir from his inner turmoil. He shifted his gaze from the disaster before him and over to the dwarf at his side.

“Don’t ask me how,” Varric started. “But you just won everything, Sparkler.” He chuckled then. “It seems you’re the only one with faith in our Inquisitor.”

Dorian blinked, the true surprise of the moment sinking in. “So it would seem,” he replied. Putting on his most charming smile, he held out his hand. “It will certainly be nice to have back all that I’ve lost since this nonsense began,” he remarked as Varric muttered, handing over the winnings.

The crowd slowly began to disperse. Some whispering about the way it played out and debating if Vaxus  _really_ won or if the Champion merely felt bad and allowed him a win. Others grumbled to themselves about losing, griping over how the Champion that fought one on one with the Arishok could lose to the Inquisitor - who had yet to beat Seeker Pentaghast. Dorian, however, could not get over the churning in his gut as he watched Vaxus and Hawke.

In the time that it had taken to talk to Varric and collect his winnings, apparently Vaxus had allowed himself to be rolled back over onto his back by the Champion. Hawke now sat atop him, her hands on his chest as she leaned down. Dorian was certain, even from this distance, she was whispering something in his ear. Maker only knew what, but it could have been a shopping list for all Dorian cared it still made him feel sick to his stomach.

And, with a disgusted noise that would make Cassandra proud, Dorian spun on his heel and stalked away. Lest he set something - or some _one_  - on fire.


	4. The Price of Winning - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A requested follow up to the previous chapter with a look into what Ashley and Vaxus are really talking about.

Ashley wiggled under Vaxus’ strong grip, testing the range of movement she was allowed. Which, ultimately, was none. She grinned up at him.

“Well done, Inquisitor,” she murmured.

Vaxus grinned down at her, in spite of the light flush on his face. He panted, eyes scanning the crowd for one in particular. One he’d forgotten - oops - to tell about this little event. The grin on his face brightened when his eyes landed on Dorian. Too elated to even _consider_ how tense the mage looked.

From below him, the Champion sighed and continued to watch him. His fingers still wrapped around her wrists keeping her hands pinned above her head. Her breathing had finally leveled out, a steady rise and fall to her chest now as she observed. Ashley’s eyes darted between Vaxus and Dorian, and then lingered on Vaxus as she watched his arms.

“Are you… are you flexing, right now?” she asked, arching one brow.

He finally stirred from his thoughts, looking back down at her and flushing again.

“I, uh,” Vaxus cleared his throat.

Ashley hummed, grinning. “That’s what I thought.”

He began to move to get off her, releasing his grip. As he shifted, however, her eyes widened in surprise. Immediately, Ashley gripped his arms, shifting her legs enough to flip them over with her on top. Vaxus grunted in surprise, blinking up at her.

“Hawke…?”

She released his arms and leaned down, setting her hands flat against his chest now.

“Trust me,” she whispered. “If I can feel that growing hard on of yours, everyone here will _see it_ if you get up.”

The color of Vaxus’ cheeks flushed an even deeper crimson. He closed his eyes, draping his arm over his face and letting out a low whine. Ashley glanced over her shoulder in the direction the very irate Dorian was stomping, smirking as she looked back toward Vaxus.

“Aw, c’mon. I think it’s cute.”

He grunted, a rather foreign and unintelligible noise from deep within his throat. She patted his chest before leaning up slightly, resting her hands on her thighs.

“Well we may be here a while. Unless of course you want me to _help_ with that… growing problem.”

Vaxus muttered a string of curses under his breath. Unable to decide if he was more upset this had happened (with the added worry of whether this was the first time or not) or that a small part of him was considering taking Ashley up on her offer.


End file.
